Sharing
by Lexi Hart of 221b
Summary: A particular muddy case leaves Molly with no clothes to change into except, maybe Sherlock's...


**Hello! Just a quick one-shot. I wrote it for a friend. It seems she wants a longer story, but I gave her this just to tide her over until I come up with a new story. I hope this tides all of you over as well! I'd say it takes place before His Last Vow, but after Sign of Three. This is complete and utter fluff. You have been warned! Please review! **

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Molly and Sherlock had just returned from a particularly messy case. Both were covered in mud, and as they ascended the stairs to 221B, they left a trail of mud for a very unhappy Mrs. Hudson to clean up. As soon as Sherlock walked through the door, he walked to his room and closed the door to change. Molly stood akwardly in the kitchen. She couldn't change because she had nothing to change into. Sherlock walked out his bedroom and past Molly, plopping himself into his chair. She cleared her throat in the hopes that he would hear. Nothing. Again, she cleared her throat.

Annoyed, Sherlock finally responded tersely, "Yes. What is it?"

"Well, it's just that, I don't have anything to change into, and my clothes are all muddy, so I'm just going to go home. I know you needed me to help with a few experiments, but...well, I'm sure you can manage. I'm sure that I would probably sully the experiments accidentally with my, um, dirty clothes anyways." She let out a nervous, breathy laugh.

"Oh don't be ridculous, Molly. You can borrow some of my clothes." Going back to his mind palace, he left Molly to tentatively walk into his room, and look for something suitable to wear.

As she opened his closet, a certain purple shirt caught her attention. She hesitantly took it off the hanger, checking to make sure Sherlock wasn't watching. She felt a rush at the thought of being able to wear his clothing. She stripped of her top and quickly donned the shirt buttoning all but the top few buttons. Seeing as the shirt was long enough to cover, she quickly shed her trousers as well. She hopelessly searched for a clean pair of trousers to put on, but all of Sherlock's were too big to wear.

She walked out his bedroom and into the living room where Sherlock was still submerged in his mind palace. "Uh, Sherlock? I...I can't seem to find any trousers that fit me."

"I'm sure it's fine. My dress shirts should be long enough on you. But if you really need some, there should be an old pair of sweatpants from uni." He looked at Molly, and what he saw snapped something inside of him. He cleared his throat, "On second thought, maybe you should just..." he trailed off, at a complete loss for words.

Molly shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable under his gaze. Sure they had become closer in the past few months, but he had never looked at her like that before. She watched him as he slowly rose from his chair and made his way to stand in front of her. He could see clearly down her shirt, and she knew it. She blushed, and he noticed with some satisfaction that the blush went from her cheeks, down her neck, and clear down her shirt to where he couldn't see.  
Neither wanted to make the first move. Molly, in fear of scaring him off, and Sherlock, in fear of the emotion and sentiment that might result from taking his relationship with Molly any further. Finally, taking a deep breath, Molly closed her eyes, stretched up and pecked Sherlock chastely on the lips, not wanting to scare him off.

Opening her eyes, she noticed his face contorted in confusion. Taking it as a bad sign, she stepped back and turned to leave before he could get upset, but she was stopped by a hand around her wrist. She was spun and pulled back, until she was flush against Sherlock.

"Why were you leaving?"

"Well, I just thought..."

"You thought wrong." He leaned down to capture her lips, and was pleasantly surprised to see the reaction he caused in her. Her pupils were dilated, as were his own he was sure. He could feel her heart racing in her chest, and he knew his was racing all the same. Her breath was short, in expectation of the coming kiss. He could tell she was waiting for him to come to her in fear of frightening him off, but he was beyond sure that this is what he wanted.

Their lips met with pent up passion and fervor. Molly's hands immediately went up to tangle in his curls, and he groaned when she slightly tugged. She had dreamed of this so many times she had lost count, but never hoped it would happen. The real thing was definitely better than anything she could dream up. His hair was so soft between her fingertips, and his warm hands splayed across her back were the only thing keeping her standing. Sherlock immediately regreted not doing this sooner, it was greater than any high he could get from cocaine or any other drug of choice. His hands went up the back of her shirt, making Molly shiver, and he smiled into her lips.

He pulled back and looked deeply into her eyes. Gruffly he started, "Molly, I know I'm not the greatest at expressing any sort of emotion, and I would be a rubbish partner, but maybe..."

She cut him off before he could say another word, "I know, but I wouldn't have you any other way."

Sheepishly smiling he recaptured her lips, and slowly started to work on the buttons on Molly's, or rather, his shirt, all the while leading them back to his bedroom. Bemused, Molly leaned back, "But, what about the, um, experiment?"

"The experiment can wait until tomorrow."

Making quick work, he scooped Molly up into his arms and hastily made his way to the bedroom, kicking the door shut.

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**Well? What did you think? I told you it would be complete fluff... **


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